


Five stages of grief, and Peter can only focus on the second

by ink_writer



Category: MC2 (Marvel)
Genre: How Do I Tag, Irondad, Peter Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 10:26:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18689620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ink_writer/pseuds/ink_writer
Summary: After Aunt May is gone, Peter tries to hide it and keep pushing on the best he can. Which means that he'll end up needing help anyways, so it might just turn out okay.Oneshot fic, my first work, but please consider reading!





	Five stages of grief, and Peter can only focus on the second

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, this is my first fic, so sorry if it's too short, too long, or too bad. But please enjoy!

The day after Aunt May’s funeral, Peter didn’t know what he was going to do. Nothing had been moved out of the apartment yet, because even though he had already put his aunt’s stuff in boxes, Peter didn’t even know what he’d do with them. The phone rang, but he only acknowledged it in the back of his mind. It was the social workers trying to contact him about foster care. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Didn’t they have any other orphaned teenagers to bother? Okay, Peter felt a little bad about that one. He glanced at the time and realized that today was when he usually was picked up by Happy and taken to the tower to work in the lab with Mr Stark. He sighed, and having nothing better to do, walked out of his apartment and waited for the familiar Audi to pick him up. After about seven minutes or so, it rolled up in front of him and he got in.

“Hey kid, have a bad day or something?” Happy asked, after an unusually quiet ten minutes. 

“No, today was fine.” Peter answered, putting as much enthusiasm in his words as he could so Happy wouldn’t suspect anything was wrong. 

“Okay. If you’re sure.” The forehead of security said, not sounding too convinced by the kid’s tone. The rest of the ride was silent until they pulled up. Peter left the car without being too quick about it, with a “Thanks Happy.” As he dashed inside.

When he got up to the lab, he was greeted by Tony grumbling over some wires that just wouldn’t stay in place until he finally got them to stay, and then turned to Peter. “Hey kid. How’s your day going so far?” Now, call Peter a moody teenager, but he was getting a little annoyed of being asked that kind of question. Like, _“Oh you know! Just getting over my aunt’s death and getting endless calls from Social Services! I’m fantastic! How are you?”_ Of course Peter didn’t say it out loud, and quietly judged himself for overreacting while he got to work on the upgrades he had been finishing, forgetting the fact that Tony had asked him a question.

“Hey, kid. Earth to Pete, you alright?” Peter’s head snapped up to look at his mentor. “Yeah, I’m good.” He shrugged off the hand that had been placed on his shoulder and continued what he had been doing, trying to not sound or act too irritated. _What is wrong with me today?_ Peter thought to himself. Then he tried pushing away his troubled thoughts and focus on the disassembled webshooters in front of him.

Sometime later, Tony tried to make up for the spiderling’s lack of chatter. “You’re unusually quiet today kid. Anything wrong?” Something inside Peter churned, urging him to tell the truth. To admit what’s wrong and wait for the comforting words that would tell him everything would be okay. _But Mr Stark is really busy. I don’t want to weigh him down with my troubles. He has a company, why would he care about one stupid teenagers problems?_

“No I’m fine. Just nothing really interesting to talk about today I guess.”  
Peter could barely contain it now. What was wrong with him though? What right did he have to be angry at someone who was just concerned? But he was, and he wished Mr Stark would stop talking before Peter screwed something up royally. He didn’t even notice his screwdriver slipped when he accidentally pressed too hard and drew a little blood on his finger until Tony pointed it out.

“Pete, you’re bleeding!” The billionaire said as he grabbed the teenagers wrist and made Peter face him. “Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked the kid as he bandaged the injured finger. He knows it’ll heal soon, but it made Tony feel better to put it there. The kid didn’t even protest like usual, ( _“But Mr Stark, it’ll heal in like two seconds!”_ ) he just watched with a glazed over stare. Which then looked the mechanic directly in the eye with sparks of anger.

Peter couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to, but his body took over his actions instead of his brain. He jumped up and yelled “Sorry I can’t be peppy and bubbly to fit your needs! Sorry I can’t just have a bad day and not feel like talking, so I’m _fine,_ so stop asking me about it!” He promptly sat back in his chair and began nudging the pieces again, too upset at himself to bring his view back to Tony’s.

“Okay. I’m sorry kid. It’s perfectly fine to have a bad day, I should’ve respected that.” Peter watched Tony out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and opened his mouth to speak, but the swallowed the words and went back to what he was doing. They fell back into a more comfortable silence. “I’m sorry.” Peter said softly. “It’s not your fault kiddo, but alright.”

 

The next day, Peter felt even more irritable. The non-stop ringing of the phone was driving him nuts. He eventually went out on patrol, careful to do it after school hours so Tony wouldn’t suspect anything out of the ordinary if he was alerted by Friday about something. After a couple hours of stopping a handful of muggings, a few street fights, and even a really lost clown late for a birthday, Peter called it a day and slipped back into his apartment. After a little bit he got a text from Tony asking if he wanted to come back to the lab and help with a quick upgrade if May would let him. He replied and soon Happy was picking him up again, much to the bodyguard’s annoyance. This time he didn’t question Peter’s quietness as they drove. Not because he didn’t care, but because Tony has informed him that the kid wasn’t quite feeling himself.

When Peter walked into the lab, Tony turned and greeted him. The teenager just muttered a response and the duo got to work. Once the new webshooters’ upgrades were fully complete, Peter tested out the new shooting distance and was satisfied. Tony suggested they came up with a stronger web formula so it could withstand the new length, and they got down to it.

After a lot of failed tests and frustration, Peter plopped down in his chair heavily and sighed. He felt more upset about this then he should’ve. But he couldn’t help it. People say guys are like waffles and can compartmentalize things, not really letting one affect the other. But Peter felt more like someone dumped trail mix into macaroni and cheese. The grief was eating him alive, and he hated how much he had snapped at Tony and made careless mistakes already. He was impressed how patient his mentor was and how he kept assuring Peter that it was going to be okay. The spider-kid grabbed some of his new formula ideas and started testing them.

After a bit, he didn’t realize he accidentally grabbed the wrong chemical and poured it in. The explosion it created was smaller, but it was still enough to send him flying a few yards back and landing on the ground a bit too hard. Tony came rushing to his side. “You alright Underoos?” He said with a little panic in his voice. Peter mumbles a reply that kind of sounded like “NoI’mokayMrStark.” That didn’t really seem to convince him though. “Maybe I should call your aunt at the very least, tell her what happened but that you seem to be okay.” At the mention of May, Peter thought he winced but instead he grimaced. He felt the irritation again, and as much as he tried to push it down it fought its way up like a tidal wave against a wooden plank. It suddenly clicked that the second stage of grief was anger, and only up until now did he realize how uncontrollable it was. He shot straight up and yelled, “No! Don’t call May!” Tony looked at the kid. “Pete, I have to, it was apart of the deal we made.” “But you can’t!” “And why is that Peter?” At that he did wince, because Tony rarely ever used his actual name. “Because calling a corpse never works.” He looked down at his shoes, the anger suddenly drained and replaced by a deep, painful hurricane of sadness and anguish. _This is it,_ Peter thought. _Mr Stark’s going to hate me for not telling him sooner. He might even take the suit again. Or-_ His thought were interrupted by strong arms wrapping around him in a hug and pulling him closer. “I’m so sorry Peter.” Tony said. “Kid, I really am. I bet social services is right on your tail huh?” Peter nodded. He hadn’t noticed the tears starting to slip down his face. “When was the funeral? Or are you still waiting?” “Two days ago.” The kid replied, trying to not let his voice quiver. “How about you come live with the Avengers?” Peter looked at his mentor. “Really?” “Really kid.”

“Absolutely Mr Stark. Thank you.”


End file.
